Ignorance
by Window Girl
Summary: Professor Xavier faces prejudice-but not because he's a mutant


**Disclaimer: **_X-Men Evolution_ and all its characters belong to Marvel\Disney. I write for fun and make no profit.

**A\N: **A paraplegic came to my school when I was in seventh grade, and he said he's actually gotten treated like this at restaurants. It's natural to feel uncomfortable around people in wheelchairs, but please remember that they're human too. Just because they're physically challenged doesn't mean that they don't have capabilities in other areas, and they deserve to have their feelings and abilities respected.

Professor Charles Xavier's students are precious to him, and he enjoys their company. That being said, they can make unruly dining companions. Between Kitty's phasing her arm through someone else's to get at the salad and Bobby's making his own ice cubes for the drinks, dinner at the Xavier Institute can get downright hectic.

That's why Xavier occasionally likes to go out to eat with an adult friend. Some of the anti-mutant fervor has died down lately, and Xavier has decided it would be a good time to his favorite restaurant, the Mantis café . This time, he is accompanied by Logan, who dutifully pushes the wheelchair through the shiny yellow-tinted double doors.

Logan pushes the chair up to the podium where the host, a young man with a very bad case of acne, is standing. "Table for two please," Xavier requests, giving the boy his most polite smile.

The boy doesn't respond.

"Table for two," repeats Xavier, more loudly.

Still no answer.

"Hey bub, we want a table for two," Logan growls.

"I'll have you seated immediately, sir," the boy replies a little stiffly. He practically stomps off into the dining area without another word. Xavier and Logan look at each other, shrug, and follow.

Not long after they are seated, a pretty blond waitress comes up and asks for their orders.

"I'll have the sausage and peppers," says Logan.

"Okay. And what will your friend have?"

"I'll have the chicken and eggplant," says Xavier.

"Okay." The waitress's eyes move up and down his body. She turns to walk away, then pauses and looks back at Xavier. "Do you need help cutting your food, sir? I notice you have some special needs." There is a huge, friendly, and completely patronizing smile on her face.

Logan and Xavier gape at the woman for a minute, astounded both at her rudeness and at the sheer stupidity of her question.

"No thank you. I'll be fine," Xavier finally replies, cutting Logan off before the hairy man can say something sarcastic.

"Okay. That'll be one order of sausage and peppers and one order of chicken and eggplant. Is that right?"

"That's correct," says Xavier.

"Okey-dokey," chirps the woman. She gives Xavier one more look-over before strutting off, her blonde pony tail bouncing behind her.

Xavier feels the heat rush to his cheeks, and he looks down at his plate so that Logan won't see how red his face is turning. It has been a long time since he last got that look, but he still recognizes it. The mixture of pity and contempt in the waitress's eyes as she'd looked him over, sizing up his body and deciding that he didn't come up to par. Making assumptions about what he could and couldn't do. He is used to this kind of scrutiny, but that doesn't make this moment easier to bear.

The look in the waitress's eyes takes him back to his first days in the chair, when he rolled around awkwardly, trying to adjust to his new life while people pointed and stared. He feels the old embarrassment of those days rush over him now. And the old anger. He wants to flip the table over, showing the waitress that he does indeed have full use of his hands and arms. He wants to roar and rage and scream, showing her that he is not mute.

"I have a Ph.D!" he wants to shout. "I've taught at some of the finest universities in the world! My articles have been published in international scientific journals! For goodness sake, I'm a telepath! I could take control of your mind and _make_ you dance topless on this table. I am _not _some invalid that needs to be babied! "

While he's at it, he'd like to invade the mind of that insolent young man at the front, filling it with terrors. Showing the arrogant fool that he is a force to be reckoned with and not some lower lifeform who can be quietly ignored.

"Charles, you o.k?" Logan's voice, much quieter and gentler than usual, interrupts his angry thoughts and brings him to his senses. Yes, he can use his power to humiliate the waitress and the host. And yes, he can rant and rave about how ignorant they are. But he won't accomplish anything by doing these things. All he would do is make a scene that would reflect badly on him as a person and on the Institute and mutants as a whole.

The truth is, he cannot make these people look past the wheelchair. Not with him or with any other disabled person.

"Come on, Charles," Logan says in that softened voice. "Let's get out of here."

"No," sighs Xavier. "We've already ordered. We might as well stay and eat. But this will definitely be our last time here."

He refuses to cause a disturbance by storming out of the restaurant. Because he knows who he is. Professor Charles Xavier. Intelligent, capable, and in control of his choices. Others may try to degrade him, but he chooses to hold his head high, holding onto to his principles and his dignity.

**A\N 2: **Just to clarify: it's not wrong to ask a person with disabilities if they need help. It's just wrong to automatically assume that they're incompetent, like the waitress in this story. If you see someone with disabilities who appears to be struggling, you can always ask "May I offer you assistance?" (as opposed to "Do you need help?" which again assumes incompetence).


End file.
